


color found in reflection

by dauntless_dragayn



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Gen, Hair Dyeing, Mild Hurt/Comfort, POV Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), Sibling Bonding, Trans Connor Murphy (Dear Evan Hansen), connor graduated high school yay!!, no parents in sight just shenangians, spiritual successor to Listening tbh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 08:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25467826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dauntless_dragayn/pseuds/dauntless_dragayn
Summary: They haven’t achieved normal. And this, right now - it’s not what they used to have. The things that stand between them aren’t gone. But it seems that they have a chance at finding a new normal, and Connor realizes that’s really what he wants - and that Zoe does too./The Murphy siblings bond over dyeing their hair.
Relationships: Connor Murphy & Zoe Murphy
Comments: 4
Kudos: 39





	color found in reflection

**Author's Note:**

> hihi!!! so this was written for the [sincerely us](https://sincerely-us.tumblr.com/) summer 2020 exchange! this is my gift for tumblr user firstburrn - i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it!! really fun prompt<3

“Alright Connor, it’s your turn to do something with your hair.” Zoe says loudly, rounding around the doorway into the kitchen. She’s got a big grin on her face and her hands are held behind her back. 

Connor blinks at Zoe over his bowl of cereal. “..What?” _Someone’s_ in a good mood. Especially compared to the seeming funk she’s been in lately. Which is great n’ all, except Connor is absolutely not awake. Sure, it’s afternoon by now but.. that’s hardly the point. 

“Come on, yunno what I mean!” She gestures up to her hair, which is in a pixie cut as of the beginning of the summer. “I cut my hair, but you haven’t done anything with yours in _ages_. You can’t tell me you’re not bored with it.”

“I mean..” Truthfully, Connor hasn’t thought about it much. His hair is still long from when things were.. bad, and he’s just been too busy working to, you know, _not_ feel bad - and also successfully graduate high school - that he hasn’t gotten to the point where he could look in the mirror and decide he wants to make a decision like that. He’s just trying to look in the mirror and be on okay terms with the person he sees there. 

“Why?” He finally asks. “What do you propose?” He says this with a little grin of his own. His sister’s energy is infectious. 

Things are less bad here, between them, too. But still. _Less bad_ and _good_ are not the same thing, and the siblings still have plenty of bad blood between them. He feels that maybe whatever this is, it’s more than it seems - an olive branch being extended. 

“Well,” Zoe says with an exaggerated tone of importance. “I’m so glad you asked.” She brings her hands forward and lightly slams a bottle on the counter in front of Connor. He squints at it for a second before comprehension clicks into place: it’s a black bottle with white lettering and a picture of blue hair. **Ocean Blue Semi Permanent Hair Dye**. He raises his eyebrows at her. 

“You wanna color my hair?” 

“Yes,” She says, though her confidence seems to waver a little. “If you want. And not just you. I wanna have mine done too. And well, obviously I can’t do it myself so..” 

“Okay.. sure,” His voice is gravelly still from his near-sleep state. He awkwardly shoves a bite of cereal in his mouth and tries again. “ _Hell_ yeah. Let’s do it.” 

Zoe’s grin grows even bigger. “Really? Oh my god okay-”

“One thing.” He holds a finger up. “I’m picking my own color.”

“That’s fine that’s fine! Fuck yes, I’m so excited. Let me get the stuff together that we’ll need-” She snatches the bottle back up from the counter. 

“Right now?” Connor laughs. 

“Of course right now! Why wait??” Zoe shoots back. “Can’t hold off and give you the chance to change your mind.” 

“Okay, okay. Just lemme finish breakfast, alright? Not awake as you yet.”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever you say, old man. Read your newspaper, and come up to the bathroom when you’re ready!” And with that she’s flown out of the kitchen with the same flourish she entered. 

A softer version of a smile remains on his face. He happens to be prepared for this; he just has to dig around in his room for the dye he bought years ago… 

\---

“Hey Zoe,” Connor pokes his head into the bathroom, where the door is ajar and Zoe has set up two stools and several bottles on the counter. “You’re wearing shitty clothes right? Like stuff you don’t mind getting stained? Because this shit will _not_ come out.” 

She looks down at her outfit carelessly. “Oh sure yeah, this shirt isn’t even mine.” 

“I- what. Dude, are you serious?” 

“Yeah, someone from band let me borrow it and I never gave it back.” 

He can’t help but chuckle at that. “Damn. Ruthless.” 

“Pfft, whatever. Come on, are you ready?”

“Yeah yeah.” He’s already in his throwaway sweats and an older binder - not that he cares much about staining his clothes anyway. He steps in, wiggling his own bottle of dye. The picture on it is super faded out - if he’s recalling correctly, he left it in a sunny spot on his desk for months at one point, so it’s kind of hard to tell what the exact shade is supposed to be. (though let’s be real, what’s on the bottle is never 100% accurate anyway) 

“Purple?” She sounds intrigued, a bit surprised. 

“Uh, yeah..” He trails off. She meets his gaze at the way his voice suddenly deflated. “It was- it was originally for both of us to do our hair together. I bought it years ago and it didn’t get used..” 

“Oh..” She looks away, then lets out a nervous laugh. “Always thought I came off as more of a pink haired person to be honest..” 

The moment is unbearably awkward. Zoe clearly doesn’t remember, and though it’s fuzzy in Connor’s mind since this is from when they were like 12, he knows it was definitely something they had conspired together about. But he can’t exactly blame her. After all the shit he’s put her through in more recent years, it makes sense the little positive things have been lost to the past. 

He decides to sidestep the tension of the moment, because if he lingers on those kinds of thoughts this won’t be fun. It’s just supposed to be _simple_ _fun_ ; he has to give the moment a chance. Can’t let it die (.. pun not intended) before they even get started. “Then why did you get yourself _blue_ dye?” 

“Oh, I don’t know. It felt more shocking. Like it would give mom and dad more of a heart attack than pink.” 

Connor lets out surprised guffaw at this. “Wow. Dork. What is this, your teenage rebellion?” 

“Oh _shut up_.” She huffs. 

He looks at the various bottles Zoe has spread out over the counter. Dye, shampoo for after, a box of hair clips.. “Bleach?” 

“Mhm! Our hair’s too dark, the color won’t show up otherwise.” Connor knows this, but still. Makes this seem like more of an actual commitment.

“Shit, you’re really prepared for this huh? Did your research and everything.”

“Naturally. This _has_ been years in the making, after all.”

“Well,” he says breezily, moving to sit on a stool. “If you fuck up my hair I can just chop it off anyway.”

Zoe lets out a sound of dismay. “Absolutely not. No way. How hard can it even be?” Connor opens his mouth.

“Nope, don’t answer that. I’m just gonna be really good at this. Watch.” 

\---

As it turns out, he can’t actually watch, because the mirror is to his left and he has to keep his head carefully still. Also, there’s no bleaching happening yet, despite the fact that Zoe has been messing with his hair for a minute or two now. 

“Oh my god Connor, when was the last time you touched a _brush_?”

“Yesterday! I brushed it yesterday! .. Or maybe that was a few days ago..”

“This is ridiculous. I can’t do anything with it when it’s like this. I’m getting my brush.”

She walks out and quickly returns, beginning the task Connor hates so much of brushing his hair. Which, for the record, he’s only started doing again recently, and mostly for the sake of being able to tie it up into ponytails to combat the heat. 

It’s not actually as bad when someone else does it, though. Or at least Zoe. The only thing is, he’s definitely not used to this kind of close contact. “You’re way better at this than mom. She used to always brush my hair like she was trying to fucking rip it out.”

“Oh man _yeah_. I just stopped letting her near it at some point. Gotten pretty decent at doing it myself.” 

“Oh. Nice.”

They fall into silence, Connor getting used to the feeling of the gentle brushing, and Zoe apparently concentrating.

And.. it’s weird. It’s weird how they have to reintroduce themselves in these little ways. He had no idea that his mom no longer did Zoe's hair. And by the sound of it, she hasn’t since she was a kid. He’s always assumed.. well, he’s never actively thought about it, but he’d kind of assumed Zoe had her mom do it up. You know, that special mother daughter bonding or whatever. But he’s got a lot wrong about Zoe, he’s starting to realize. Maybe he’s way over-estimated how close she and Mom are. In fact-

“Do Mom or Dad know we’re doing this?” He asks casually. 

Zoe pauses, guilt apparent. “Ah, no.”

“I mean. It’s fine, I’m just wondering. It’s not a crime - it’s _our_ hair.”

“Yeah,” She agrees, then says it again like she’s reassuring herself. “Yeah. As long as we don’t like, spill dye everywhere or get bleach on like literally anything..”

“Of course not. Come on, really. We’re being careful.” He turns, trying for a reassuring look over his shoulder. 

“Don’t move!” She commands. “I’m parting it into sections now that it’s _manageable_. Don’t. Move.”

He sighs and relents. It’s hard to sit up so straight for any extended period of time. He’s used to constantly slouching. Probably not a great thing, but his posture isn’t on the top of his list of priorities. 

Slowly, and with occasional bursts of curses under her breath, Zoe bleaches several sections of Connor’s hair, using hair clips to keep them separated.

“Okay..” She finally says, rinsing her hands and then setting a timer on her phone. “So we just gotta let that sit.” 

Connor gets up and stretches his arms up over his head, glancing over at himself in the mirror. He looks pretty stupid, with all of these neon clips in his hair. These things must be from when they were young. He raises an eyebrow at her in the mirror. “Do you want me to start on yours while we wait?” Her eyes skip away.

“Uh- no, let’s just wait.” Weird. He had assumed she’d jump on the chance to get started on her own hair, considering how excited she’s been acting about this. He shrugs.

“Alright.” He hoists himself to sit on the counter. “So. You told me why we’re doing my hair, but why yours? You just got it cut.”

Zoe faces him warily. “Do I have to have a reason?” 

Connor has to keep his irritation off his face. What’s with the sudden defensiveness? They’d been fine just a few minutes ago. Has he done something to fuck that up without even realizing? 

“Okay.. I was just wondering.” Despite his efforts his voice comes off as kind of tight. 

She relents a little. “Actually, I’ve had my dye for a while too. Like, since last year probably.”

He silently raises an eyebrow.

“I was.. I was just really pissed one day. Like if I didn’t do something with myself I’d explode. So I got out of the house and just drove around for a while and I somehow ended up at Target. I wandered in and kind of.. stormed around until I stopped and found myself in the cosmetics area. The idea sort of occurred to me and I was buying it before I could really think about it. I was pissed at mom and dad, and I thought ‘fuck, if my hair is some stupid unnatural color, they’ve got to notice, even if it’s to yell at me’.” She lets out a forced little laugh, as if trying to convince him that it’s a joke. “I may as well have been fucking invisible; they were fighting, again, like they always did. About..” Her eyes refocus, and she flushes a little. “About.. you know, whatever.”

Connor had just been thinking, with some surprise, how familiar the first part of her story sounds to his own oversized emotions, that it takes him a moment to realize why she’d gotten so vague all of a sudden. _Him_. Their parents had been fighting about him. Again. Always. To be fair, last year was when things went from bad to worse, so he’d probably given them plenty of reasons. He has no way of recollecting that specific instance - he wouldn’t have noticed Zoe leaving the house, or even if he had he wouldn’t have cared. And all of their fights sort of blend in together. Really, those _months_ do. Depression does that. 

Heat creeps up his neck. Shame sits at the back of his throat. As bad as that time had been for him, he’s never given much thought to how it must have been for Zoe. She was collateral damage in a war she had never even signed up for. He is fucking selfish, self absorbed.. 

_Invisible_. Zoe said she had felt invisible. Part of him wants to ask if she still does. Most of him knows she won’t answer him honestly. Even this admission now seemed like a slip, like she’d gotten too caught up in the emotions of that long ago day. 

The timer on Zoe’s phone goes off, making them both jump. 

“Okay, we can rinse the bleach off. Assuming I didn’t fuck this up, we should be able to put the dye in now.” She’s all business again. Maybe eager to leave behind the awkward silence between them.

He turns on the sink and looks in the mirror, and sure enough, parts of his hair are bright blond, in stark contrast to the rest of it. He whistles appreciatively. “Fuckin’ weird.” 

Connor can see Zoe grinning in the mirror. “Time for the actual fun part. Sit!” She’s squeezing dye onto her gloved hands. 

“Alright, alright..” He grumbles, settling back on the stool. “Just don’t go wild. I don’t need a purple scalp or some shit.” He’s actually feeling weirdly nervous now. Which is stupid. It’s just hair dye. Like he said before, if it really is horrible he can just chop it off. But still. For as long as he’s wanted to, he’s never done this before. And.. neither has Zoe.

“Damn.” She says mischievously. “That was actually my plan. You’re saying you _don’t_ think that’d be a look?” 

He blows a loose strand of hair from his face with a huff. “ _No._ ” 

She giggles a little, which is _not_ reassuring. _Guess I just have to trust her_. _Trust_ hasn’t been in their vocabulary in a long time, but Connor has much less reason to distrust Zoe than vice versa. It’s a sobering thought. 

\---

What feels like _so_ much time and way too much dye later, Zoe steps back from her work with a flourish. “Wow!”

Curious about what that reaction could mean, he looks in the mirror, trying for nonchalance. But he can’t really tell what shade it’s gonna turn out to be, not with everything wet. 

“You look like a drowned rat!” Zoe says cheerfully. 

He scowls and crosses his arms. “Oh fuck off!” 

She guffaws. “Sorry sorry, a _hipster_ rat. That part’s important.” He’s biting his lip but he can’t stop himself from grinning begrudgingly. 

“Whatever, pest. You’re next.”

She struggles to stop laughing, catching her breath. “Okay, okay, yeah..” 

“Where’d you put-” “The bleach is-”

“Alright alright-”

There’s an awkward shuffle as they switch places, the bathroom suddenly seeming crowded. Connor’s got the bleach in his hand. He’s honestly not sure where to start. Zoe is sitting on the stool now, but only on the edge, like she’s ready to run away. 

“Uh.. right.” 

She turns to look at him over her shoulder, eyebrows drawn. “At least _pretend_ to know what you’re doing.” 

He gives her a flat look. “Yeah, as much as _you_ do. It’s fine. Just- are we doing your whole head, or-”

“Yes.” She interrupts. “All of it. Yeah.”

“Okay..” He trails off. 

“Don’t try to change my mind.” Her voice has a bit of an edge to it. 

“ _Relax_. I’m not trying to. It’s just.. I’m gonna get bleach all over you if we don’t have a towel or something.” Both of them think about how all of their towels aren’t white, meaning getting bleach on them will very noticeably ruin them. 

“ _Shit._ ” Zoe swears quietly in frustration. 

“No hold on- I got it.” Connor ducks out of the bathroom quickly without further explanation. When he returns, he holds up an old blue hoodie of his. “We’ll use this.”

“Dude, no-”

“It’s fine. I haven’t worn it in like, five years. I promise I do not care. I was probably gonna throw it away soon anyway. Here, just- can I?” She purses her lips and nods. He wraps it carefully so it sits on her shoulders, under her chin, and behind her neck. 

And this. This is weird. Not just a normal amount of weird, but like _you could cut through the tension in the air with a knife_ weird. He can tell how tense Zoe is, and it’s painfully obvious that it’s because of their proximity and the fact that she’s turned away from him. _Trust_. Zoe has every cause not to trust his hands, his touch. He would never hurt her.. but he has come close, a few times. The worst times. And he’s hurt other people.. never badly. He doesn’t clearly remember the actual outbursts, but he knows the most damage he’s ever done is bruises and blood. He’d never forgive himself otherwise. He may not, anyway.

So yeah. He can’t fucking blame her, but the truth of her fear digs under his skin horribly. He wonders for a moment if he’s gotten bleach on his hands already by accident, but no. This pain is self inflicted. 

“Is this okay?” He asks quietly. _This_ could easily mean his makeshift hoodie/towel arrangement, it could mean the bleach he’s about to apply, it could mean this innocent activity that’s somehow vulnerable and terrifying at the same time. Zoe had asked him for help in the first place. Because practically, they need each other. But as it turns out, this is a game of trust. Is she regretting it? 

This would be the smallest of infractions, compared to the shit he’s pulled, but Connor refuses to cross this line without permission. He refuses to dig this hole deeper. It was nearly a grave for their relationship, and only now that he’s looking up does he realize that he was the one who’d dug his way down here. Not her. As much as he’s tried to blame his problems on everyone else in his life, it was always him. And only now that the siblings had stumbled upon moments of _normal_ did he see how much he wanted them to _really_ be normal. 

Zoe takes a deep breath. “Yeah.” 

Maybe she wants normal, too. His heart feels a little trembly with relief or awe or nervousness, because he doesn’t deserve this chance she’s giving him, but he keeps his hands steady. He’s determined for this to be the best fuckin' dye job she’s ever seen.

\---

Seeing Zoe blonde is _strange_ , to say the least. But he doesn’t tease her, just grins at her sheepishly in the mirror when she looks at her reflection and lets out a surprised squeak. “Woah I.. _woah_.” 

“Ya good?” He asks gently. “We’re not done yet, remember?” 

“Yeah.. yeah. Blonde is _not_ my look. Let’s do this.” 

Over the time Connor had bleached her hair, Zoe had seemed to get a bit more comfortable with the arrangement, but he still does his best to be gentle and careful. There isn’t much finesse to spreading blue goop in someone’s hair though, so he just takes it slow.

“So,” he says, breaking their silence. “Did you tell anyone else you’re doing this? Like your friends or whatever? Because if not they’re gonna be in for a hell of shock.” The idea of returning to school with such a drastically altered appearance and getting people’s reactions is pretty fun, though Connor does _not_ regret the fact that he himself is never stepping into the hell that was his high school’s hallways ever again. 

The thought reminds him suddenly, uncomfortably, of what had happened last year on his first day of school, and he remembers that people suck, actually. Surely not _Zoe’s_ people though. Does she have people? She must. Connor’s the odd one out for not really having any friends in high school. He’s never met any friends of Zoe’s.. then again, considering everything, it wouldn’t be too surprising if she avoided them seeing him or coming over here at all costs. 

“Nope,” She says, voice quiet. “Didn’t tell anyone.”

“Mmm” He acknowledges.

“Actually.. I don’t know if I have anyone _to_ tell, really.” 

He raises an eyebrow in surprise, but only because she can’t see. “What do you mean?” He’s careful to keep his voice neutral. 

“I mean..” She sighs. “It’s just more and more obvious to me lately that everyone there is like, a shallow piece of shit. I dunno. I know it’s gonna be my senior year and I’m almost done and this is supposed to be my ‘victory lap’ or whatever, but what’s the _point_ then? I don’t even have anyone I really wanna celebrate with.” 

Connor can’t relate to the part about senior year, because his was _not_ a victory lap, but. “Yeah honestly I get that. Everyone wants you to play in their games, and if you don’t you’re the freak, not the idiots who’ll peak in high school.”

“Exactly! And I’ve done that.. for years. Kinda. I don’t know. But I’m so sick of it. And on one hand, I’m glad I skipped out on all of the stupid typical drama, but on the other.. I feel like I’m wasting my time. And I don’t even know, I mean, I don’t know how things are gonna change after this. As shitty as it is, I’m used to that world.” 

He’s pretty surprised she’s telling him all of this. It’s more personal than the two of them have been with each other.. ever, really. Confiding in one another is different when they’re (sort of) adults like this. Much more of a conscious choice, and less about ‘well, you’re my sibling, so I tell you everything because you’re here’. One time he’d read that it’s easier to talk to people in the car, because you don’t have the added pressure of eye contact and facing each other, and he supposes that applies here too. 

“Well..” he hesitates, not sure if Zoe actually wants advice or not, especially from him - not that he’s qualified to advise really, at all. But she waits expectantly. “It’s sort of up to you? How things change? Who you talk to or who you don’t.. there’s no obligation forcing people together once you get out. The world just isn’t like that. If someone’s an asshole, you just flip ‘em off and walk away, and you don’t have to see them again. Mostly. Everyone’s at high school because they _have_ to be. Which is why everyone’s kind of fucking miserable. If you go to college-” He cuts himself off, not wanting to make assumptions, since he hates it when other people do that. “Or work or move to a city or live in the fucking woods or whatever - it’s people’s choice to be there.” 

Zoe lets out a little laugh. “Yeah.. true. I guess that makes sense. I’ve never really thought about it that way before.” Connor hadn’t either, before he’d graduated. He’s only been free for a few months so far, but it’s crazy what time and distance and introspection can do. Also, therapy. Lots of therapy. 

“I’m not saying it doesn’t suck though.” He adds. “Because it definitely fucking does.” 

She sighs again. “I just wish I could stop thinking about it all. Summer’s not even over yet.” 

Connor nods, then remembers she can’t see him. “For sure. But.. hey.” He sets down the nearly empty bottle of dye, screwing the cap back on. “Those fuckers are gonna see you and wonder what the hell they missed out on, being too shallow for you to bother with. You’re all done.”

She leaps up, inspecting herself in the mirror. Her eyes are wide, but she has a surprised smile on her face too. “Oh shit.. oh _shit_! Okay uuh.. I gotta leave mine in for a bit but you have to rinse yours! And then we can dry it!” She shoves a dark towel to his chest. “Rinse off in the shower, it’s quicker! I’ll go get my hair dryer.” And with that, she ducks out and shuts the door behind her. 

He blinks after her, squeezing a strand of his semi-damp hair between his fingers. He’s still processing their conversation - trying to match up reality with his version where he had always imagined _Zoe_ as one of those said shallow popular kids, with no shortage of friends. He’s realizing that wasn’t fair at all. No, he actually _perfectly_ understands how she feels. Separate and alienated, too bitter to try to cross the line. 

She really does deserve better - not just from him. From everyone. From life. So yeah, if simple things like an amateur hair dye job - that, regardless, seems to be making her happier than he’s seen her in a while, with all this weighing on her - are all he can do for now to be a better brother, than at least it’s something. At least it’s a start. 

He shakes his head and turns on the water.

\---

It takes a while, and Connor remembers why he never uses hair dryers - he _hates_ the things, _noisy_ and _uncomfortable_ .. but eventually both of them have rinsed off the access dye and dried each other’s hair. 

Now they’re both gaping at their reflections, turning and adjusting and touching their heads. As it turns out, purple looks _great_ on him. It’s evenly streaked throughout his hair, with various strands being lighter or darker shades. It’s not bright, so it blends in with his natural color nicely, while still definitely being noticeable. 

“Dude, Zoe, not bad for someone who’s never done this before.” 

She beams at him, then looks back at herself. Her hair has come out an awesome, deeper shade than expected. Rather than an electric blue, it’s more like the blue of a twilight sky after the sun had just set. Almost indigo. “I look _so_ different.”

And it’s true. She looks older. Less like the girl who’d only just entered high school, and more like one who has a bit more substance to her than nice smiles, amiable words, and quiet day dreaming. Pride settles in his chest, a feeling he isn’t familiar with. It’s a good look for her. And he’d had a hand in that. 

Not in her becoming this person, though. That was all her. And he doesn’t know her very well yet, but he thinks he likes her. 

“You do. You look like a fucking badass.” She rolls her eyes.

“You’re messing with me.”

“No, really! You’re- what did you say? Shocking. Proper parent heart attack material. Really come into that rebellious phase.”

“Oh shut up! Asshole!” She crosses her arms, but she’s still smiling. It’s the kind of grin that seems invincible, makes someone’s whole face light up. 

After a few seconds of laughing he goes “No.. you look amazing Zo, seriously. Good choice.”

She blushes a little. “Well.. thanks for helping me. I couldn’t have done it without you, obviously.” 

“Right of course, my _expertise_.” 

She rolls her eyes again. “Whatever. Hey, we gotta get pictures!”

“Pictures?” He says dumbly. He kind of avoids those like the plague.

“Of course, we gotta show off!” She brings out her phone and starts stepping around, looking at the screen and pointing the camera in various directions. “The lighting in here’s terrible though, and we can do better than bathroom selfies anyway. Come on!” She disappears from the bathroom, and he makes a note to himself to drag her back in here later so they don’t forget to clean up. It’s kind of a disaster zone of supplies, used towels, and colored water; their parents _will_ be pissed if they see it when they get home. And he knows from experience that would _super_ kill the joy of the thing. He walks out, grabs a t-shirt, and looks for Zoe. 

Connor finds her slowly walking down the stairs, phone held out in front of her. “Hmm..” He takes the steps two at a time to stand behind her. 

“Uh-”

“No, not here.” She lowers it and jogs the rest of the way down. 

“..Alright.”

She’s in the living room now, sitting on the couch and once again swiveling her phone around. He walks behind her and leans on the headrest with both arms. “Dude!” She waves him off with a flap of her hand. “Hold on, I’m trying to see if this looks okay and you’re in the background.” 

He backs off but grumbles. “You’re overthinking this..” 

Zoe jumps up, ignoring him. “Outside. Outside always looks good.” When she goes out the front door some part of him considers, with a snicker, just not following and seeing if she’ll even notice, but she shouts over her shoulder. “C’mon, Connor!”

Following her out, Connor nearly runs into her. She’s sitting on one of the steps now, and she pats the space next to her. He gingerly joins her. Zoe holds her phone out in front of them, and there’s an awkward moment where both of them sort of fumble, unsure how to pose - he lifts his arm to put over her shoulders, and then that just seems weird so he puts it down, she leans down and closer to him but then immediately straightens up. They both glance at each other and let out a little laugh. 

Zoe takes a few pics of the two of them: sitting together easily, not quite touching but still close. Connor is slouching with a sheepish grin on his face, and Zoe is beaming and flashing a peace sign. 

They flip through and find the best one, though to Connor they all look identical. “Here,” Zoe says, and his phone dings from his pocket. “Sent it to you.” 

“Thanks,” he says, climbing back to his feet. For a second he hesitates, then he reaches out a hand to his sister. She meets his gaze and accepts it, pulling herself up. She nods, and together they walk back inside. 

Later, Connor looks at the picture, at how they look like.. well, like siblings. There’s no indication that they’ve ever been anything but. In reality they haven’t achieved normal. And this, right now - it’s not what they used to have. The things that stand between them aren’t gone. But it seems that they have a chance at finding a _new_ normal, and Connor realizes that’s really what he wants - and that Zoe does too. 

It won’t always be as easy as a fresh dye job, but Connor’s willing to put in the work it takes. 

**Author's Note:**

> as always, come visit me at my deh blog [sincerely-nerdeh](https://sincerely-nerdeh.tumblr.com/)!!!!!!!!


End file.
